


M for Mutant

by ShiHeTsu



Category: V for Vendetta (2005), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Character Death, Discrimination, F/M, Holocaust, Human Experimentation, M/M, Mutant Rights, Telepathy, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:53:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4920373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiHeTsu/pseuds/ShiHeTsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cross-over AU</p><p>"Remember, remember the 5th of November..."<br/>Can an idea of an one man change a nation? Can said man change his idea for someone? They say that ideas are bulletproof but are they harmless?<br/>Charles thought once that idea was a dangerous thing untill someone had change it.<br/>The man in a helmet made of steel and claret cape that should never be forgot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remember Intro

**Author's Note:**

> I knooooow! I started a 2nd one! But really guys! It's Friday night and I watched one of my favorie movies "V for Vendetta". And now my mind see it diffrently because I was thinking about another chapter in "Lost in my mind's estate". And than all those paterns helmet- mask, cape, twisted thinking in Erik's view of things and basicly the destimination in the movie (though I changed Muslims-Jews and terrorists-mutants).  
> And besides Shaw wanted to start a war and make his own country and and and... the rest in the near future.
> 
> FF based on the movie V for Vendetta but it's X-men AU aaaaaand Cherik so shush!  
> I do not own anything (as always) ;)!

Chalers was siting in a dinning room looking at a vase filled with red roses. His annoying hair wavy with one loose strand almost in his blue eye. Some of those flowers full blossomed others were just buding. Notherless beautiful, full of life and with sweet smell. With abset gaze and a chin based on his hand the man was staring at them and tring to not forget. To remember of…

“Remember, remember, the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot.  I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot” he whispered to roses.

He’d have heard it from him. In that time he did not understand words that have been spoken to him. In his mind there were only rules that were unbreakable law. And by that law he should not live at all nor his sister. No mutants in this country. From them two he was in a better position. His own mutation could not be seen but her sister for rest of her life is going to hide in someone else body. Always freaful for her own well-being. But even though he could pass as a normal human being he was always hiding. And than there was a one man that make him proud of who he is. That make him believe at some point in his own ideas. That he was worth to breath, to laugh, to love, to make a future… to live.

Before that man there was someone else that tried to make his idea come true. That wanted to show his own country that what they were doing was wrong. His name was Guy Fawkes and he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament in 1605. And he was caught, tortured and hanged. His life, his frends, his love long forgotten. Everything but not the power of his idea. In his whole life Charles have witnessed the power of the ideas that in wrong hands could hurt so many innocent people. He have seen humans kill in the name of it and die defending them.

But you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it or hold it. Ideas do not bleed. They do not feel pain. They do not love. And it was not an idea that Charles missed. It was a man. A man that made him remember the 5th of November. A man that he wont never ever forget. That made him once again live and see hopefuly for a better tommorow.


	2. The Overture

In a small flat there could be heard a light buzzing sound of a turned on telly. Charles was tring his best to look presenable. Today he’s going to meet his nephew and brother-in-law. To be honest he was nervous as hell. He hasn’t talked to his sister for a few years now. After they grown up she cut the ties and moved with her life on her own terms. He was suprised when he serived a letter with an invitation for their wedding. Charles was there, at the other end of a church, but he was there. He could almost hear their happy thougths as they were looking in each other’s eyes. Raven was standing in a wedding dress looking almost like a model from a magazine with her flawless skin and long, blond her. It was her usually disguise so that she could not be find out by the govermment. In front of her there was a man. Her type was unnusual. Pale skin and jet black hair with a chin puff. On his wrist he could see quite big, digital watch. _Yup. Not his type._ Ashamed of his own thougths Charles left the church without a word. He went to his car and from his small bag on a passanger seat he pulled out syringe with a bright liquid. He remembered when one of the nurses gave him it for the very first time when he was little. From that moment he was on his medication almost every day. Sometimes, like today, he ignore it but after few hours it was too much to bare and he needed it at some point. Voices in his head was buzzing in the back of his mind. Raven’s happy thoughts the most bright of them all. He took a shot and rested his head on a headrest of his seat. Slowly all minds of other people just vanished and he could not tell if it was after five minutes or five hours.

After few years she called him and asked if he could finally meet her husband. Naturaly he stayed quiet and didn’t want to answer.

“You were there, weren’t you?” he could recall as she asked.

“Yes, yes I was” he finally answered.

“Oh Charles… “

“Does he know?” was his only question.

“Yes he knows” she said happily. “We’ve got a son. You should meet them. Please?”

So that’s how he ended up in his bathroom in front of a mirror trying to tame his hair. He should cut them long time ago but instead of it they grow longer, waved on the top of his head and curled at a nape of his neck.

From the sitng room he could hear William Stryker’s voice in the telly. That annoying, stern voice.

 _“So I read that the former USA is so desperate for medical supplies that they have allegedly sent several containers filled with wheat and  tabacco”_ said Stryker from the screen.

 

*

_Somewhere else in London was also preparing himself, siting in front of a mirror and reached for a maroon helmet._   
_“A gesture, they said, of goodwill” WIlliam carried on on his speach._

_The man put on his helmet which hided his whole face. Ant two slits made for eyes were cover with a shadow._

_*_

 

“ _You wanna know what I think? Well, you're listening to my show, so I will assume you do. It's high time we let the colonies know|what we really think of them. I think it's payback time for a tea party they threw us a few hundred years ago._ ”

Charles didn’t even hear what that megalomaniac was talking about. He strighted his tie. Pulling a little to take a bigger picture. Well he was not looking that bad, to be honest. He got out from a bathroom and looked at the telly. He should leave in a minute if he wants to get there on time.

“ _Who's with me? Who's bloody with me?!_ ”

 

*

_“Did you like that?”_

_The loud cheering picked the man’s interes and he turned to the device._   
_“Here was a country that had everything, absolutely everything and now, 20 years later, is what? The world's biggest leper colony. Why?”_

_The man turned his seat and pulled his boots on trying them if they fit well. He rose up and made his way to the bureau and took the knives from there._

_“It wasn't the war they started. It wasn't the plague they created. It was Judgment. No one escapes their past. No one escapes Judgment” as Stryker was still making his point the man placed a belt with knives on his narrow waist._   
_“You think he's not up there? You think he's not watching over this country?” the man was waching closly the presenter taking his claret-color cape and swing it in the air. ”How else can you explain it? He tested us, but we came through” the cape landed o his shoulders and he placed his hands on hilts on his weapons._

*

 

Charles put a watch on his wrist and for few more minutes he tried to do something with his hair. Fro time to time he looked at the screen. Why every time he listens to Stryker’s show it makes him afraid that at any minute some soldiers bang at his door and arrest him.   
“ _We did what we had to do. Islington. Enfield. I was there. I saw it all. Immigrants, Jews_ ” his face a little big closer “ _homosexuals, mutants. Disease-ridden degenerates. They had to go. Strength through unity. Unity through faith_ ” oh Charles hated that bywords. “ _I am a God-fearing Englishman, and I'm goddamn proud of it!_ ”

Charles couldn't stand those hateful words so he grabbed a remote and turned it off.  
“That's quite enough of that, thank you very much” he turned to a clock. ”Oh, shit.”

He was very, very late. He really hoped that he would catch his last bus. He grabbed keys and coat and than he left. He run to the bus stop but from the far distance he could see that his bus took off. Well it was not THAT far from his place so if he walk really fast he should make it. While he was walking on streets he herad woman’s voice from every speaker on street lights. Of course he would not made it there on time. How could he be under the ilusion that he would be before the curfew. His heart was up in his throat. He’s going to be arrested. _Cheers_. And than as if someone called a guy there was somebody in the distance. He turned in to an alley in hopes to not be seen. But on his way he bumped into a man. He was well build, like a bodyguard, with dark hair and mustache. He was hearing light brown coat with his hands in each of pockets.  
“Whoa! Excuse me” cried a man offended.

“Sorry, I didn't see you” Charles tried to make his way past the stranger.  
“In a hurry, are we? It's past curfew, you know” smirked the man.

“My sister, she's very sick” tried Xavier.  
“Sick sister? What you think, Willy?”

“It's a load of bollocks” said man that was earlier on the street and came from the other alley entrence.  
“I made a mistake. I shouldn't be out after curfew. I know that” Charles was feeling traped.

“Maybe we shoud teach you a lesson before getting back to your sister."  
The first one griped his hands into fists ready to punch him and the other one pulling out metal baton. Charles could hear their thought still a whisper in the back of his head but right there in his own mind. Panic. Serum was wearing off quicker under the pressure. His day is going to be a hell. When he saw that the man he bumped into rose his fist Charles aimed at them a small can with a tear gas.

“Don't touch me!” yelled Xavier.

“Look, Willy, a boy wants to be a man. He just threatened us” said a stranger with a big, ugly smile.

“That he did, that he did” conffirmed Willy.  
“It means” said the other” that we exercise our own judicial discretion” from his pocket he pulled out a bange with a yellow triangle.

“And you need to take it” added Willy   
“You're Sentinels” Charles stammered” No, please, I didn't know. I'm sorry.”  
“Not yet you're not” said the man with a mustache.” But you will be.”  
“Oh, God, no. Please don't do this” Charles cried out taking his head in hands as if that could block all those horrible thoughts in their heads.” I'll go home. I won't do it again, I swear! Please!” pleaded throwing little can away.  
“What do you think, Willy?” he turned his way.

”Spare the rod, spoil the child” said the man and gave another the baton.  
At that point Charles was almost glued to the wall behind him. With hands in front of his face he tried to protect himself. He know that he couldn’t depend on his powers, they were too weake to use them for a deffence. The only thing left was to take a first blow and hope to loose consciousness after few. After one of the man cried “What the hell?” and throught his finger Charles could see that said man tried to move the weapon. The Sentinel pulled his hands down and stared at the metal as if it offended him.

“Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel which smoked with bloody execution” said someone behind them.

They turned to the owner of a deep voice and there from the shadows made his way a man in deep red cape and same color helmet. Charles couldn’t pick up who’s thought was who. His own didn’t even make sense. How he got here? All because of Raven! He could see the baton up in the air without nobody’s help. Just there floating above their heads.

“We’re Sentinels, pal” said man flashing his bagde at the man.

In a flash the man with a helmet took a knife from under his maroon cape and cut off the bagde that landed on the sidewalk. The man with a mustach looked in horror and with one punch was near it on the floor knocked down. Willy tried to grab a baton and swing it but it still was immune to his strengh. He left it and tried to hit a masked man in the face but the metal of his helmet only broken bones in his hand. He droped on his knees and hugged his hand as if it could help it to heal. The new man took the baton in the same time kicking Willy on his back.  Charles could feel his pain. It was bad. It was really bad. He should take his medicine now!

“Jesus Christ! Mercy!” cried Willy.

“Spare the rod” murmered the masked man.  
Charles was holding his head and with wide eyes he was looking at the man. There was silence. Deep silence as if the man was a machine without thoughts and emotions. He made his way to Charles and throw up his hands showing that his unarmed.

“I can assure you, I mean you no harm” he said calmly.  
“Who are you?”Charles asked weakly.

“Who? Who is but the form following the function of what” he was talking as if Chalers was a child” and what I am is a man in a mask.”  
“Oh, I can see that” snickered Xavier.

“Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation. I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is” said the man with a humor in his voice.  
“Oh. Right” said lamely still staring suspiciously.

”In the night I was seeking for my vangence to spread her wings and fly I’ve met you as you lead me to those awful humans as a start. But on this most auspicious of nights please permit me then be your guard and let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me M” he bowed as if he was in front the queen herself.

Charles was staring at him not sure if he should run or stay for a second to keep his back protected. He grabbed can with gas as if to show he can protect himself.

“Are you, like, a crazy person?” asked Charles finally and winced after sharp pain in his skull. “God it’s so quite now. How I cannot hear him” he muttered not quiet enough.

“Your a telepath then” said M and seeing horror on Charles face he added. “I am quite sure they will say so but to whom, might I ask, am I speaking?”   
“I’m Xavier, Charles Xavier” he introduiced not to sure if he should but after he saved his life it was at leased he could do.

“X-avier. Of course you are” he touched his chin with his hand as if he was thinking deeply.  
“What does that mean?” asked Charles in alarm.

“It means that I, like God” he bow down and reached out with his hand” do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence. Are you hurt?” he waited still offering his help.  
“No, I'm fine” he took the hand and rose up.” Thanks to you” he added whisking his coat.

“Oh, I merely played my part. But tell me, do you enjoy music, Charles?”

“I suppose” said Charles trying to see that strange man’s eyes in the shadows behinde his helmet.  
“You see,” he looked other way” I'm a musician of sorts and on my way to give a very special performance.”  
“What kind of musician?” a young man asked a little bit curious and forgeting about the incident.  
“Percussion instruments are my speciality as they are made of metal so I could use my gifts but tonight I intend to call upon the entire orchestra for this event” he gestured at the exit of an alley” and would be honored if you could join me."

Charles was not convinced. All his senses were telling him that this man is dangerous. That he should stay away. But how he could know anything about that man if he could not hear his thouthg. He couldn’t slip into his mind and know about him everything. He was like a blank spot in the whismers all around Charles. It was refreshing and his mind not blurred by the serum. But still...  
“I don't think so. I should be getting home” he picked his wallet that sliped from his coat and made few steps to the exit.  
“I promise you, it'll be like nothing you've ever seen” the deep voice stoped him and he turnd M’s way. “And afterwards, you'll return home safely” it felt like eternity as he was looking at the masked man.  
“All right” he nodded and once again M showed him a way.

 

As they were walking they didn’t talk. Charles thought that it was because M was nervous of his performance. Who wouldn’t be. If he played in the orchestra and then he was suppouse to direct all musicians in the opera, he should be. From time to time Charles could hear someone’s voice here or there safe in their’s flats. Only whispers. And everytime he heard them he looked back to make sure they were not followed by other Sentinels. They made to the back alley and above their heads was a ladder to high. That seems to not bother M because he reach out his hand and the ladder slowly felt down at their feet. They climbed up to the roof and as they made it Charles looked around. He saw streets from the top and few lights in the distance. It was beautiful. That thought that there were people that were geting ready to sleep with their families in warmth of homes. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw a city after dark.

“It's beautiful up here” whispered Charles smiling.  
“A more perfect stage could not be asked for” he stepted to the edge near the pipes.  
“I don't see any instruments” Charles frowned, was it a trick?  
“Your powers of observation continue to serve you well. But wait!” M pulled a metal wand that he let floating in the air and with both hands he pointed at the building in front of them.” It is to Madame Justice that I dedicate this concerto in honor of the holiday she seems to have taken from these parts and in recognition of the imposter that stands in her stead” he turned to his gueast. ”Tell me, do you know what day it is, Charles?”  
“November the 4th?” asked the young man not really sure if it was a real question or a joke.

“Not anymore” said M after the first bell from a tower. “Remember, remember The 5th of November the gunpowder treason and plot I know of no reason Why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.”

M grabbed the wand, tapped few time on a pipe and started to sway to the music only he could hear. Charles once again was not sure if the man was sane. He really should not be here.

“First, the overture. Yes. Yes, the strings” Charles _REALLY_ shouldn’t be here.” Listen carefully, can you hear it?” only thing he could hear were more voices in the neighborehood.” Now the brass.”

These voices were overwhelming but something picked their interest. Most people should be asleep by now. Than some of the voices started to hear some music loudly and with that Charles made his way to the edge.  
“I can hear it!” yelled Charles, maybe too loudly but he was surrounded by the song hearing it by his own ears and in other minds.

He could here Tchaikosky’s overture from the speakers. More and more people were on the streets trying to find a source of the music. Chalers looked at M and smiled. It was incredible! How that man had done it?! He could here one girl particular calling her mother to look outside. He saw that girl in the window and than he looked at him once more.  
“How do you do that?” he tried to shout through the music so that M could hear him.

“Wait. Here comes the crescendo!”

M pointed at the building with his wand. On it’s top was a golden figure that trembled. Charles frowned and saw as the flames made their way up to the statue. The whole building shuddered and as the music picked the pace the building started to fall apart and from the statue bright stipes, like fireworks, shot up in to the sky. Charles covered his open mouth with his hands. _He could not believe it!_ Beside him M was laughing as if it was a trick from a circus. He still was swinging his wand from left to right. After the stripes reach as high as they could they started to fall down. From their perspective it looked like a big, bright “M” on the dark, night sky.   
“How beautiful, is it not?!” shouted M still facing his work.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh! But I have a dilema. For Delia Surridge Trask or Marko? Please help me in that (in comments maybe)?


End file.
